Is This The Right Way To Repay A Favor? Chapter 15
byReturn to the Village
Yongnan Village is a village under the jurisdiction of Jiang Province.
Driving there from Haishi requires three hours on the expressway and one hour on county roads.
The three passengers in the car were sound asleep.
Jiang Zhou drove alone for over two hours. When he reached the last service area before exiting the expressway, he pulled in.
The three sleeping passengers seemed to sense the stop and all woke up.
Jiang Yue immediately started rummaging for snacks, looking like a starving ghost.
Shen Zhiyu unbuckled his seatbelt. “Let’s go.”
Jiang Zhou looked at him, confused.
Shen Zhiyu said, “Didn’t you promise to help me film a video?”
Jiang Zhou was surprised. “Me?”
Shen Zhiyu looked at him, then glanced at the two children in the back already munching on snacks, his expression suggesting, ‘If not you, then who?’
Shen Zhiyu didn’t wait for him, getting out of the car to look for a filming location.
Jiang Zhou silently followed.
Jiang Zhou had parked in a secluded spot, the corner of the service area. Behind them were rolling green hills, with a sign at the peak reading “Jianglang Mountain.”
The background was immediately decided.
Shen Zhiyu handed his phone to Jiang Zhou. “Use my phone to film. I sent the questions to your WeChat.”
His phone still held a trace of warmth, and Jiang Zhou felt it was hot to the touch. He hesitated. “I…”
Shen Zhiyu raised an eyebrow. “?”
Jiang Zhou immediately forced a smile. “It’s nothing.”
He opened the script questions Shen Zhiyu had sent him and raised Shen Zhiyu’s phone with his other hand, aiming the camera at Shen Zhiyu.
The red dot indicating video recording lit up, like a tiny, beating heart.
Shen Zhiyu stood casually in front of the mountains, wearing a relaxed beige trench coat. His hair was slightly messy from sleep, adding a touch of domesticity.
He didn’t look at the lens but at the person behind it.
“Are we starting?” Shen Zhiyu’s voice was relaxed, carrying the deliberate warmth he used when recording videos.
“Mm.” Jiang Zhou barely squeezed out a single syllable from his throat.
It was a good thing the phone was blocking his face. The phone in his hand felt like a shield, isolating him from all the surrounding turmoil, leaving only the illusion of serious filming.
“Alright, let’s begin.” Shen Zhiyu cleared his throat, turned toward the camera, and flashed a perfect, professional smile.
However, he waited for a long time but received no questions.
Shen Zhiyu called for a pause.
Only then did Jiang Zhou realize that he was supposed to ask the questions aloud.
And his voice would also appear in the recorded video.
Jiang Zhou looked flustered. “Maybe we should let…”
Jiang Zhou stopped mid-sentence, sensing the atmosphere around him suddenly turn cold.
Shen Zhiyu reached out and pinched the phone. His voice was distinctly different from the professionally warm tone he used for recording, carrying obvious displeasure. “If CEO Jiang is unwilling, forget it.”
“I don’t like forcing people.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Seeing his anger, Jiang Zhou quickly gripped the phone. “Of course, I’m willing.”
Shen Zhiyu pulled his hand back and gave him another look.
Jiang Zhou nodded heavily. “Mr. Shen, please.”
Jiang Zhou pressed the record button and started filming again.
After Shen Zhiyu greeted the camera, Jiang Zhou asked the questions according to the script.
“Regarding why I chose to participate in the program, firstly, I…” Shen Zhiyu smoothly answered the questions arranged by the production team. His logic was clear, and he was clearly well-prepared.
Jiang Zhou struggled to steady his breathing, forcing himself to focus on adjusting the composition and focus.
Through the viewfinder, he greedily traced Shen Zhiyu’s slightly trembling eyelashes and the movement of his Adam’s apple as he spoke.
Shen Zhiyu paused naturally after answering one question.
Jiang Zhou quickly followed up with the next question.
After recording seven or eight questions in succession, Shen Zhiyu paused again.
But this time, after Jiang Zhou asked the next question, Shen Zhiyu didn’t answer. Instead, he turned his head slightly, his gaze accurately piercing through the camera’s obstruction and landing on Jiang Zhou, saying in a casual, drawn-out tone, “I’m a bit thirsty.”
“Ah? Oh!” Jiang Zhou snapped back to attention, nearly jumping up, his voice tight. “I… I’ll go get you some water.”
He subconsciously wanted to put the phone down.
“No need.” Shen Zhiyu chuckled, stopping him. He pulled a small thermos from his trench coat pocket and casually twisted the lid open with his fingertips, his movements fluid and elegant.
He raised the thermos, tilted his head back to drink, his neck forming a beautiful arc, his Adam’s apple clearly bobbing.
Throughout the entire process, his gaze seemed to penetrate the cold lens and fixate on Jiang Zhou.
The world in the viewfinder instantly blurred and lost focus, leaving only Shen Zhiyu’s penetrating gaze.
A thin layer of sweat instantly broke out on Jiang Zhou’s palms, which were maintaining the filming posture. His knuckles were slightly white from gripping the phone tightly.
After drinking, Shen Zhiyu casually wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.
He turned back to the camera, wearing that standard professional smile again. “As I just mentioned, I…” His tone was so relaxed that it was as if nothing had happened.
But Jiang Zhou’s heart was pounding like rapid, deafening drumbeats. His mind was filled entirely with the image of Shen Zhiyu drinking water.
That gaze that seemed to pierce the lens,
Along with the clear sound of water swirling between his lips and teeth…
Jiang Zhou swallowed with difficulty, his throat dry and aching.
His mind was blank. Like a puppet, he moved his body, continuing to fulfill his duties of filming and asking questions.
Finally, the filming ended.
Jiang Zhou quietly let out a sigh of relief.
In the cold winter, he had managed to break out in a sweat outdoors.
Shen Zhiyu checked the recorded video.
The first half of the video was fine, but the problem appeared in the second half, when Shen Zhiyu drank water. The video faithfully recorded Jiang Zhou’s panicked and quickened breathing.
Shen Zhiyu clipped the video and sent the first half to his assistant, Zhang Fanshu.
Jiang Zhou didn’t dare to look closer. He stood aside, regulating his breathing.
After a while, Shen Zhiyu put away his phone. “You filmed very well. Thank you, CEO Jiang.”
—
Because of the delay from filming the video, the group arrived at Yongnan Village close to two in the afternoon.
After exiting the expressway, Jiang Zhou had planned to find a restaurant in the county town for lunch, but Shen Zhiyu rejected every restaurant he suggested.
Finally, Jiang Zhou had no choice but to ask Shen Zhiyu if he wanted to eat at his house.
Only then did Shen Zhiyu agree.
The two children had filled up on snacks along the way. As soon as they reached the village entrance, Jiang Yue didn’t even go home, pulling Ye Mo off to play by the river.
Jiang Zhou had called ahead to tell his family they had a guest and asked them to prepare extra dishes, specifically instructing them not to use chili.
Jiang Province heavily favored spicy food; meals were incomplete without chili.
However, Shen Zhiyu preferred sweet flavors and couldn’t handle any spice.
A long time ago, during a promotional period, Shen Zhiyu participated in a show where he was challenged to sing while holding a chili pepper in his mouth.
Shen Zhiyu only touched a tiny bit, but it made his face flush red. After finishing the song, he nearly ruined his voice from the spice.
After that episode aired, fans collectively protested the production team. The director was eventually forced to personally apologize before the matter was grudgingly resolved.
The Jiang family house was rebuilt on the site of the old one and was now an imposing three-story villa with a courtyard.
The courtyard was spacious. A delicate pavilion was built on one side, furnished with a stone table and stools. Opposite it, several lemon trees and blueberry bushes were neatly planted.
Jiang Zhou led Shen Zhiyu into the courtyard.
Jiang Zhou’s father, Jiang Hua, heard the sound and walked out from the inner room.
The moment he saw Shen Zhiyu, he froze, then stumbled forward two quick steps and firmly grasped Shen Zhiyu’s hand.
The old man’s fingers were rough, but his grip was extremely tight, and his voice trembled noticeably. “Are you… Shen… Shen Zhiyu?”
Shen Zhiyu usually disliked physical contact, but seeing the old man’s emotional state, he didn’t immediately pull his hand away.
Jiang Zhou, standing behind him, was about to step forward and pull his father away, but Shen Zhiyu subtly shook his head, signaling that it was fine.
“I am,” Shen Zhiyu replied with a gentle smile.
Jiang Hua’s cloudy eyes instantly reddened, and a film of moisture quickly welled up. His throat bobbed, as if years of pent-up words had finally rushed to his lips, yet he couldn’t utter a single sentence.
The next moment, his legs suddenly bent, and he was about to kneel toward Shen Zhiyu. “My great benefactor!”
But before his body could fully bow, Shen Zhiyu firmly and steadily held him up. “Uncle Jiang, what are you doing!”
Jiang Hua’s tears could no longer be held back, rolling down in large drops. “Such great kindness… Mr. Shen, if it hadn’t been for you back then, I might not have made it… and Ah Zhou wouldn’t be where he is today…”
Shen Zhiyu helped the old man stand firm, his tone earnest. “Please don’t say that. I truly don’t deserve it. All of this is the result of your own hard work, step by step.”
Standing nearby, Jiang Zhou was deeply shaken.
He hadn’t anticipated this scene.
Thirteen years ago, his father, Jiang Hua, had only seen Shen Zhiyu once on his sickbed. At that time, he had been bedridden for years, his consciousness hazy, unable to fully recognize people.
He hadn’t expected his father to recognize Shen Zhiyu at a glance.
Overcome with emotion, Jiang Hua’s high blood pressure flared up. Jiang Zhou and Aunt Fang, who rushed out from the kitchen, helped him back to his room to rest and take his antihypertensive medication.
Aunt Fang stayed in the room to look after him, while Jiang Zhou led Shen Zhiyu to the dining room for the meal.
Jiang Zhou had already prepared himself mentally. He knew what Shen Zhiyu’s trip to Yongnan Village meant.
But knowing was one thing; when he actually stepped into Yongnan Village, the fragile thing called self-esteem deep within his heart still silently collapsed and shattered.
The towering wall he had painstakingly built over more than a decade with money and countless sleepless nights peeled away piece by piece the moment Shen Zhiyu walked into Yongnan Village, shattering completely.
No matter how expensive his suit was, it couldn’t conceal the impoverished youth who once huddled under the roots of a banyan tree, secretly gazing up at the glorious light. That past had long since penetrated time, taken root in the depths of his soul, and etched itself into his very bloodline.
A wave of intense bitterness surged in his chest, accompanied by a powerful, self-destructive agitation that threatened to completely swallow Jiang Zhou’s rationality.
Just then, Shen Zhiyu suddenly stopped eating, picked up a braised prawn, and gently placed it in Jiang Zhou’s bowl.
Jiang Zhou abruptly looked up.
“What I gave you back then was like this prawn,” Shen Zhiyu looked at him, his voice calm yet clear.
“To me, it was insignificant; to you, it was merely the icing on the cake.”
“Jiang Zhou, even without me, you would have done well.”